


Ride a Rearing Dragon

by EssayOfThoughts



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Slayer's Take
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: Or: How Vanessa came to manage the Slayer's Take.





	Ride a Rearing Dragon

Vanessa Cyndrial is twenty-three when she finds her way to the Slayer’s Take. She’s thirty-three when the old Huntmaster leads her and two others to Osysa’s ziggurat to decide his successor. 

She’s only been down here twice since her branding; she’s not had reason to go down any more. Huntmaster Heckford steps ahead, unafraid of the dark for all his human eyes. She wonders how many he’s led down here. To her left is Murtin - and she knows the halfling reasonably well, they’ve worked contracts before. To her right is Galehaut, Heckford’s second. Reckless, she’s always said, but handy enough in a fight when he doesn’t rush right in. He’s good muscle to have, while Murtin’s quiet consideration of a contract is a more reliable comfort.

“Osysa!” Heckford calls. “It is time.”

Vanessa is never truly over this - Osysa prowling out of shadow like a predator, hair braided back, eyes flaring blue, scattered pieces of loose light glittering off the jewellery that adorns her. A sharp-toothed mouth midway between snarl and smile. Osysa is one of the most beautiful entities Vanessa knows and she’s one that she’ll never be asked to kill. She can admire Osysa’s deadly grace in the safe certainty it will never be turned on her.

“Time, you say.” Osysa’s voice is low and reproachful. Her expression is too. Heckford’s held his position for almost half a century; Vanessa wonders if it’s hard for Osysa to let go of old Huntmasters when the time comes. With how long she seems to have been here it might be that they become familiar just before they leave her. 

“Yes, Osysa.” Heckford sounds sad. “I’m most of the way to blind. I can hardly lead the Take in this state.”

Vanessa doesn’t think she’s ever seen Osysa like this before - reproachful, agitated, upset. A glance to Murtin says he’s thinking the same. The sphinx has been an anchor of peace and certainty for the guild for years uncounted, and to see her otherwise is… unnerving. Slowly, Osysa rests her chin over the Huntmaster’s shoulder. The weight, by rights, should make him buckle, but he just laughs. 

“You’ve brought the candidates?” Osysa asks and Heckford nods.

“Galehaut for boldness, Murtin for sense, Vanessa for luck. The ways to wisdom.”

Osysa’s head lifts. Her eyes flick over each of them in turn. 

“Very well,” she says, “The trial begins.” She steps forwards, Heckford back. “Your final trial, perhaps. Fight  _ me.” _

* * *

Osysa fells Galehaut first. Vanessa predicted that. Galehaut was many things - fierce, strong, brilliant when pushed - but he was reckless before he was anything else. A sideswipe takes the man out, careening down the staircase, and in his wake Murtin steps back, longsword prepared. Vanessa readies a spell in one open palm, spiralling her axe in the other.

Galehaut, she knows she’s better than. She doesn’t know if she’s better than Murtin. Luckier for sure - she’s always known what bets to make, what risks to take. But Murtin has an eye for people and tactics, can read a beast before it knows what it’s doing itself, and she doesn’t know if her luck can match that. He’s small and clever and he smiles at her in a way that she recognises but hasn’t yet deigned to return. She might, after this, assuming they make it out alive. 

Murtin yells and charges forward. Osysa’s paw swipes out and Murtin ducks. With the sphinx overbalanced, Vanessa sends her spell ploughing into Osysa’s side, but she seems to absorb it like it's nothing. Murtin slides up close, sword swinging into her ribs. Even that seems to bounce. 

_ Chosen of Ioun, _ Vanessa realises. A smile spreads over her face, and she backs up.  _ Chosen of Ioun. We can’t hurt her. _

Murtin is still up close, ducking, weaving, spinning like Vanessa’s axe in her hand. Using his size to his benefit. It doesn’t matter. Vanessa doesn’t need to win. Vanessa doesn’t need to fight. When it comes to Osysa, fighting is how you  _ lose. _ And the sphinx hasn’t told them the win condition. 

Vanessa is many things, but she’s pretty sure she’s not a fool. She lets the nebulous energy in her palm ease instead, and presses her hand to her shoulder where her brand lies. She watches Murtin dive out of the way of a paw, and sees how much this is a  _ game _ to Osysa. Claws clip the halfling’s boots and send him sprawling. Vanessa digs her fingers into the brand. 

They don’t know the win condition. They don’t know what it will take. Galehaut is out; Osysa is rounding to face Vanessa with Murtin sprawled on the floor. 

To rule, Heckford once told them, is to ride a rearing dragon to the gates of hell and hope you can get it fly out of there after. It requires risks and danger and knowing that those beneath you may hate you at least some of the time. And it requires doing the best you can for them as well as yourself despite it all. 

_ To rule is to ride a rearing dragon. _

Well. How about a roaring sphinx?

Vanessa springs forward, magic surging in her palms, and drops the axe. Osysa is bounding towards her, wings spread and flapping and Vanessa really hopes she’s made the right bet.  _ Luck, _ Heckford had said.  _ Oh fucking please. _ She leaps, launching off the ground as her axe clatters against stone. Magic surges, pushing her upwards.

And she lands atop and astride Osysa’s back. 

Immediately, Osysa stops. Murtin, sprawled on the floor, picks himself up. Down the stairway Galehaut is groaning.

Osysa paces slowly forwards to the heartstone, sets herself down like a cat about to warm itself by a fire. 

“Vanessa Cyndrial,” says Heckford. “I knew you were the crazy one.”

“The  _ clever _ one,” Osysa corrects. “To take the hint and use it. Too bold-” she points to Galehaut with a claw. “Too narrow a focus-” to Murtin. “This one. She remembered what applied when she needed to.” Osysa’s shoulders shift. “Take this hint, little one. Get  _ off.” _

Vanessa slips down the furred side, picks up her axe and replaces it in it’s loop on her belt. 

“So,” she says, looking Osysa in the eye. “What now?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!


End file.
